UC-NRLF 


ELM    3E7 


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"A   "Book  of  Verses  underneath  the  lough, 
A  Jug  of  Wine,  a  Loaf  of  Bread,  and  Thou 

'Beside  S^fe  singing  in  the  \Vilderness, 
Oh,  Wilderness  were  'Paradise  enow." 

Omar  Khayyam. 


COPYRIGHTED.   1910.   BY  J.  T.  CONNOR 


Tke    Road    to    Fame 


-W 


Frontispiece 

By 
Annie     W.     Brigraan 


-. , 


ook   of   "\7erses 


Published    by 

P.       C.:       A.       C 

1910 


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... 


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/      ~>    f 

i 

Renewal 


I  HO 

4) 


313148 


The  sea  is  a  molten  pearl, 
And  pearl  the  fleckless  sky; 

The  firstling  leaves  unfurl, 
And  the  air  is  a  fragrant  sigh. 

A  bird's  soft  madrigal 

In  the  peartree's  blossoming; 

High  on  the  church-spire  tall 
A  white  dove  preens  her  wing. 

The  elemental  strife 

Lost  in  a  peace  profound, 

In  sound  of  quickening  life 
That  yet  is  scarcely  sound. 

One  with  the  starry  chime 

Earth  keeps  her  rhythmic  beat — 

Our  mother,  old  as  time, 
With  heart  still  young  and  sweet. 


Tke    MotL   of   Time 

Lo!  this  audacious  vision  of  the  dust— 
This  dream  that  it  hath  dreamt !     Unresting  wings, 
Too  strong  for  Time,  too  frail  for  timeless  things ! 

Whence  all  thy  thirst  for  God,  thy  piteous  lust 

For  life  to  be  when  matter's  chain  shall  rust? 
What  pact  hast  thou  with  the  undying  kings, 
Silence  and  Death?     What  sibyl's  counselling 

Assure  thee  that  the  eternal  laws  are  just? 

Nay!  all  thy  hopes  are  nothing  to  the  Night, 
And  justice  but  a  figment  of  thy  dream! 

Upon  the  waste  what  wide  mirages  glow, 

With  hills  that  shift,  and  palms  that  mock  the  sight, 
And  cities  on  the  desert's  far  extreme— 

Those  veils  we  name,  and  dare  to  think  we  know! 


Compensation 

For  every  pang  a  thrill  of  joy, 
For  every  sin  a  deed  of  grace, 
For  every  curse  a  benison, 
Somewhere,  somehow,  sometime. 

This  is  my  faith,  that  God  is  just, 
That  wrong  shall  be  resolved  in  right, 
That  out  of  darkness  breaks  the  light. 

We  would  not  have  eternal  day, 
We  would  not  have  all  happiness; 
The  shadows  make  the  glow  more  bright, 
The  night-gloom  glorifies  the  day, 
And  sorrow  sanctifies  our  bliss. 

So  if  this  life  seem  mostly  lost 
In  the  dull  reach  of  dreary  gloom, 
And  if  the  good  be  bowed  in  dust, 
What  matters  it,  if  God  be  just? 

The  great  world-plan  cannot  be  wrong, 
In  other  lives,  on  other  spheres 
The  good  God  justifies  earth-tears, 
And  souls  that  suffer  shall  be  blessed. 


Truth's  Dawn 

Had  truth  not  dawned — 
There  had  been  in  my  heart  no  little  shrine 

On  which  the  flame  of  joy  burns  ceaselessly. 
I  had  not  known  the  way,  pure  and  benign, 
Nor  soft-lipped  peace,  nor  even  hope  were  mine, 

Had  truth  not  dawned! 

Had  truth  not  dawned — 
I  had  not  understood  that  Love  will  keep 

The  spirit  unconfined,  the  footsteps  free 
That  tread  the  king's  highway;  nor  known  the  sweep 
Of  life  unending,  changeless,  love-crowned,  deep, 

Had  truth  not  dawned! 


c 


Ckarity 


Thou  art  no  slave  nor  diplomatic  Sage, 

Dissembling  in  no  high  nor  servile  guise. 

The  common  lot  of  all  is  thy  emprise, 
The  common  weal  of  all  thy  tutelage. 
No  war  of  favors  doth  thy  white  hands  wage. 

The  poorest  waif  or  clod  beneath  the  skies 
Finds  knightly  favor  in  thy  gentle  eyes. 

Thy  soft  caress  a  boon  for  youth  and  age. 
Thou  fair  handmaid  of  God,  supernal  fount 

Of  love;  thy  tears  like  fadeless  asphodels, 
Bestrew  earth's  rugged  path  with  fragrant  grace. 

Our  solaced  hearts  forgetting  oft  to  count 
The  many  painful  scars  life's  record  tells — 

Beguiled  to  patient  trust  by  thy  sweet  face. 


How  Stall  It   Be? 

How  shall  it  be,  when  —  some  supernal  morning, 
Longed  for,  and  given  of  God's  abiding  grace- 

Borne  by  a  breath,  and  with  no  note  of  warning, 
On  unknown  paths,  we  two  meet  face  to  face. 

So  long  it  seems  since  you  went  sailing,  sailing 
Far  on  a  sea  that,  yet,  I  may  not  cross; 

So  long,  since  pitying  breeze  brought  back  your  hailing  : 
"Life  is  but  love,  and  love  is  never  loss." 

And  yet  when  dusks  on  all  the  hills  are  lying, 
And  ships  creep  homeward  through  the  Golden  Gate, 

I  call  to  you  and  hear  your  low  replying: 
"Sing  and  be  glad,  and  still  in  patience  wait." 


Retrospection 

Ah,  give  me  back  my  chain  of  childhood  days 
That  now  like  scattered  opals  at  my  feet 
Do  lie;  their  lights  at  variance  with  the  sweet 

Of  memories,  and  in  the  gathering  haze 

Of  twilight  thoughts,  when  hushed  silence  lays 
A  finger  on  my  heart,  it  bids  it  beat 
To  melodies  that  urge  my  soul  to  meet 

Those  dear  dream-voices  of  my  happier  ways. 

To  hold  one  hour  that  in  remembrance  lies 
So  that  on  slender,  golden  threads  of  years 
I  could  string  fancies  of  the  long  ago: 

The  time  when  fairies  painted  sunset  skies 
And  I  saw  lights  of  rainbows  through  my  tears, 
For  this—  I'd  give  my  all  to  have  and  know. 


(^ 


wo 


Song; 


For  me  the  Skylark  never  sang 

Save  soaring  in  the  pages 
Of  Shelley,  Wordsworth,  Tennyson, 

To  sing  for  all  the  ages. 
But  ah,  I've  heard  a  Meadow-lark 

From  hedges,  fields  and  fences, 
Pour  on  the  air  his  song  of  joy 

When  rosy  dawn  commences. 

His  rounded,  mellow,  soulful  song, 

Like  full-sustained  contralto, 
Would  blend  in  sweetest  harmony— 

The  treble  with  his  alto— 
If  with  the  Skylark  he  could  sing, 

Though  never  soaring  high; 
The  one  a  love-song  of  the  earth, 

The  other  of  the  sky. 


At   Twenty-One 

At  twenty-one  the  wildest  tales  are  yet 
As  visions,  credible ;  and  thou  canst  let 

Thy  fancy  roam  at  sweet  unchequered  will. 

Naught  in  the  world  thou  dar'st  not  do !     No  hill 
Thou  would'st  not  climb !    No  prizes  too  high  set ! 

But  in  thy  dreams  and  triumphs  ne'er  forget 
The  golden  hour  when  falls  love's  mystic  net 
Around  thy  soul  to  set  the  blood  a-thrill 
At  twenty-one. 

Alas !  What  say  I  ?     Passions  breed  regret. 

Who  knows  love's  joy  shall  know  her  aching  fret, 

Unless  the  pulses  of  desire  grow  still. 

And  yet, — ah  yet! — may  thou  the  fate  fulfill: 
To  find  thyself  in  love's  eternal  debt 
At  twenty-one. 


Twiligkt  in  tke   Redwoods 

The  sun  has  slipped  behind  the  mountain  steep, 
On  whose  thick,  wooded  slopes  I  linger  yet, 
Beneath  the  redwood's  shadow,  hushed  and  deep, 
And  full  of  night.     For  me  the  sun  has  set. 

But  suddenly  the  dusk  is  vibrant.    Hark ! 
An  oriole  sings  with  lingering  run  and  trill. 
I  raise  my  eyes.     Across  the  canon  dark, 
On  distant  slopes  the  sun  is  shining  still. 


Tke  OU  Gate 

A  gate  deep-sunk  in  an  adobe  wall 
Where  creamy  roses  over  red  tiles  fall, 
Watered  by  her  who  waits  with  patient  tears 
For  one  delayed  through  twice  a  score  of  years. 
Within  the  dark  recessed  grateful  shade 
A  phantom  soldier  greets  a  Spanish  maid; 
The  rose  from  out  her  bosom  planted  there 
His  faith  protested  with  a  fragrance  rare; 
The  maid  coquetted,  but  she  waits  to-day;— 
So  pluck  a  rose  and  pass  upon  your  way. 


- 


Small,  kindling  pulses  in  dry  stems, 

Green  carpets  on  the  lanes; 
Bold,  little,  sudden  winds  that  whirl, 

And  warm,  sweet  blustering  rains— 
The  earth  is  warm,  the  heart  is  warm, 

The  gay  acacia  blows; 
And  lo !  the  lovely  march  of  flowers 

In  glad  procession  goes. 


Above  tke    Clouds 

'Mid  white  Sierras,  that  slope  to  the  sea, 

Lie  turbulent  lands.    Go  dwell  in  the  skies, 

And  the  thundering  tongues  of  Yosemite 

Shall  persuade  you  to  silence,  and  you  shall  be  wise. 

I  but  sing  for  the  love  of  song  and  the  few 
Who  love  me  first  and  shall  love  me  last; 
And  the  storm  shall  pass  as  the  storms  have  passed, 
For  never  were  clouds  but  the  sun  came  through. 


Tarantelle 

A  dazzling  maze  of  dizzy,  whirling  sound, 

Struck    through    with    sudden    chords    of    strenuous 

strength, 

Wherein  the  height  and  depth,  and  breadth  and  length 
Of  the  hot  Southern  passion — Love  unbound, 
And  Hate  unleashed  and  risen  from  depths  profound — 
Are  shadowed  forth  and  limned  by  music's  notes, 
While  round  and  o'er  and  through  it  all  there  floats 
Soft  air  and  sweet  from  far  Italian  ground. 

This  picture  rises:  'Neath  a  wide  stone-pine, 
Fronting  the  Midland  Sea's  deep  liquid  blue, 

Backed  by  th'  escarpments  of  the  Apennine, 
On  flowery  carpet,  pied  and  rich  of  hue, 

While  chimes  the  distant  convent's  vesper  bell, 

A  youth  and  maiden  dance  the  tarantelle. 


Ttc  GoJ  of   tte  DcaJ 

Up  through  Canton  city, 
Through  the  reek  of  rotting  ills, 

You  come  to  the  old  Pagoda 
Above  the  funeral  hills. 

Five-storied  over  the  sleepers 

Lying  in  crowded  ways — 
Some  in  a  Buddhist  heaven, 

Some  in  a  Buddhist  blaze. 

In  the  deserted  courtyard, 

The  great  stone  idol  grins, 
Looking  at  grass-grown  out-walls — 

Thinking  of  Chinese  sins. 

Battered  and  stained  and  broken, 
That  grinning  gray  stone  head, 

Ugly  as  sin  discovered — 
Old  as  the  oldest  dead. 

He  waits,  but  they  come  never 

To  that  old  forsaken  shrine, 
And  he  dreams  of  the  pungent  incense 

That  curled,  and  the  sam  shu  wine. 

He  waits  with  a  heathen  patience, 
While  the  lizards  dart  in  the  sun, 

And  the  trees  spring  up  in  the  courtyard 
But  of  the  dead,  there  comes  not  one. 


At   tke    Helm 

If  love,  true  love,  is  at  the  helm, 
No  matter  how  the  storm  may  rage, 
Our  barques  it  ne'er  can  overwhelm, 
In  any  clime  or  age. 

Love  holds  the  tempest  in  his  hand; 
The  elements,  his  laws  obey. 
There  is  no  power  can  love  withstand, 
And  love  is  love  alway. 

It  turns  life's  darkness  into  light, 
It  lightens  even  death's  dark  gloom. 
It  leads  the  soul  to  glorious  height 
And  lives  beyond  the  tomb. 


msasr^p 


In  S 


ummer 


Summer  time  in  Arcady, 

No  one  there  with  you  and  me. 

Summer  breezes,  summer  showers, 

Dew-drops  glist'ning  on  the  flowers. 

Naught  care  I,  if  we  but  be 

All  alone  —  in  Arcady. 

Summer  time  in  Arcady, 
In  the  garden  fair,  are  three. 
"Two's  company,  three's  a  bore," 
A  fig  for  all  such  ancient  lore! 
When  you  and  I,  and  Love  the  three 
Who  inhabit  Arcady! 


0    fl         0 


Tke   \Vorker  and  tke  Tramp 

Villanelle 

Heaven  bless  you,  my  friend — 
You,  the  man  who  won't  sweat; 
Here's  a  quarter  to  spend. 

Your  course  I  commend, 
Nor  regard  with  regret; 
Heaven  bless  you,  my  friend. 

On  you  I  depend 

For  my  work,  don't  forget; 

Here's  a  quarter  to  spend. 

Ah!  you  comprehend 
That  I  owe  you  a  debt; 
Here's  a  quarter  to  spend, 
Heaven  bless  you,  my  friend. 


Slave  Still 

Thou  claim'st  this  Earth  thy  birth-right,  home, — and  yet, 
Not  yet,  strong,  dignified  in  presence  proud 
Of  King,  Czar,  Pope,  or  Lord  bourgeois?     Back,  back 
To  chamber  lone,  poor  Thrall !    Purge,  scourge  thyself ! 
And  stand  self-franchised  citizen  with  these! 


Sunset 

Over  the  sea  runs  a  path  of  light, 
A  carpet  of  gold  that  the  sight  may  tread 
Into  the  west,  toward  the  realm  of  night, 
Losing  itself  in  the  dusky  red. 
Gossamer  mists  float  over  the  spray, 
Kissing  the  waves  with  their  gentle  rain; 
While  the  sun  calls  back  its  last  slant  ray, 
And  sinks  beneath  the  light-swept  main. 


The   Redwood  Tree 

When  the  Power,  that  out  of  chaos, 
Wrought  from  mist  to  God-like  man, 
As  a  scroll  before  the  Maker 
Stretched  the  great,  immortal  plan; 
And  the  wonders  of  the  heavens 
Were  unrolled  so  full  and  free, 
In  His  love  for  man  and  beauty 
God  designed  the  Redwood  tree. 


TLe  Way 

Hungered  is  thy  heart-life? 
Would'st  thou  richly  live? 
Scant  tho'  all  thy  holdings— 
GIVE. 

Restless  is  thy  spirit? 
Why  Life's  purpose  shirk? 
Find  thy  task  and  humbly 
WORK. 

On  to  larger  living, 
Counting  not  the  throe, 
With  thy  soul  aspiring 
GROW. 


/      '• 


Morpkia 

Come,  sleep-eyed  boy!     Let  thy  spell  fall. 
Lead — lead  me  on  through  cloistered  hall, 
Or  classic  ruin,  'neath  mouldering  wall. 
Oh,  sound  again  the  witching  call ! 

Ay,  waft  me  with  thy  subtle  spell 
O'er  lake,  o'er  mountain,  fen  or  fell, 
To  flowery  glades  where  dryads  dwell, 
Where  wilds  resounds  with  satyr's  yell. 

Love  waits  with  rampant  pulse  divine, 
With  kiss  on  lips  like  ruddy  wine, 
With  cheeks  aglow  and  eyes  ashine, 
And  whispers  low  through  leaf  and  vine. 

Come!  And  from  out  thy  leafy  wold 
Bring  fabled  brew  in  cup  of  gold. 


Tke  Road  to   Fame 

Yon  lies  the  goal,  across  the  sun-scorched  plain! 

No  primrose  path  invites  the  pilgrim  band; 

At  every  step  the  blood-red  flower  of  Pain, 

Set  'round  with  thorns,  springs  from  the  burning  sand. 


•v>*v>  t> 


PRESS    OF    CARRUTH    ft    CARRUTH    CO. 

520    FIFTEENTH    STREET 

OAKLAND,   CAL 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 
LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is,due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

oh  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


1  m"J  ^v>l)l 

RprrD  LD 

M/W  S     v^ 

JAN  1  9  1966  6  i 

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SENT  ON  ILL 

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LD  21A-50m-9,'58                               UniSrsii 
(6889slO)476B                                                  Ben 

U.C.BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


YA  03637 


313146 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


